Last Chance
by MrsRavensmut
Summary: Sixth Year. Draco is acting strangely and Hermione, his fellow Slytherin, is determined to find out why. Will not contain Dramione. Will contain smut and violence (starting chap 6).
1. The Silver Four

Hermione was pulling her trunk behind her tired frame, her tawny owl throwing angry looks at the Muggles staring at it. She couldn't help joining her messenger's mood, even if her anger was rather towards the wizards surrounding them. They were all so noisy when the first of September finally showed the tip of its nose. She snorted loudly as the Weasley family ran past her in an orange flash of light, except for famous Harry Potter's dark hair. Even a goblin would have given a better Muggle-disguise than Arthur Weasley. One would think that as Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department, he would know better than to combine dusty pin-striped trousers with a loose flower-embroidered blouse.

Hermione finally decided that those matters were far from being of her concern, flattened the black silk dress Narcissa had given her past Christmas and casually leaned against the barrier between platform nine and ten. A second later, she was standing next to the Hogwarts Express, thick white smoke issuing from the engine and covering the chatty crowd. She slightly sighted at the picture of dozens of Hogwarts students, young and older, flinging their arms around their parents' neck a last time. Her anger was mostly due to her jealousy over those who had a proper family, but she wasn't yet ready to admit it.

She took her eyes off the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor Patil twins, another group of Potter's friends - though Parvati might not be so fond of him anymore since the Yule Ball - and finally entered the train. The Yule Ball … Of all the girls who threw themselves at Draco's feet in Fourth Year, how could he have chosen Pansy Parkinson and her bulldog face? If at least she had been witty or funny … Hermione fought hard to dispel any trace of anger from her face as she caught a glimpse of Draco's compartment. And she succeeded, for when she greeted her friends, her face was as blank of emotions as Crabbe's mind was blank of any spirit.

"Alone once more, Granger?" Pansy commented as the bushy-haired Slytherin took place in front of her, between Draco and Blaise, while Goyle hoister her trunk up. Pansy had never borne the idea that Draco kept a seat for Hermione next to him every year.

"Everybody doesn't need to be pampered until they are of age" Hermione backfired coolly. The guys slightly smirked. Pansy's parents wouldn't leave her alone before the very last call, no matter if they now were in Sixth Year. In fact, both of Pans'y parents were still standing behind the train's window, beaming at their only daughter.

"Funny, to me it rather sounds like you have something to hide." Pansy asked, boring deeper into Hermione's lies.

"My parents are in France. You wouldn't expect them to travel all the way here just to see their daughter step onto a train, would you? They are very busy people, I expect you can understand that, Draco." Hermione explained, now gazing at Draco for some support.

"That's probably why they didn't send you to Beauxbâtons, because they have so much influence there" Pansy ironised.

His platinum-blond hair shining in the morning light, Draco still seemed to be considering whether he would or wouldn't take part in the girl's constant bickering. Past year, he would have jumped right into this occasion to brag about his family's wealth, but nowadays he had gotten so silent that he resembled Blaise. Crabbe and Goyle also looked at him expectantly now, seeking any sign of his next reaction. They were completely at a loss since Draco had somewhat dumped them for Blaise, Pansy and Hermione – though he and Hermione had always been close. Finally, he raised his head to meet Hermione's eyes, scratching his pointy chin.

"Pansy, we discussed this a thousand times. Hermione has been a Slytherin for over five years now, she's one of us" he simply said.

Pansy frowned for a moment but ended up forgetting about their altercation as Draco later sent Crabbe and Goyle to properly _greet_ some first years in his name and he could lay over their seats to let her play with his hair. As they started snogging, Hermione finally looked away, surprised to see that they were now dating. Pansy ended up having what she wanted, then. Deciding not to waste another second watching them, Hermione turned over to Blaise.

"Mind looking for the food trolley?" she asked.

He shrugged and followed her out of the compartment. They didn't go far though. A few feet further, they fell face to face with Ginny Weasley and Potter, both raising their wands towards Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise slightly scowled, much tenser than usual, and slid a hand to his wand-pocket, but Hermione was faster.

"What do you think you're doing, Potter? I don't remember you being Prefect." she apostrophized him. Of course, The Boy Who Lived must have thought that Dumbledore would name _him_ Prefect rather than Weasley. Hermione saw at his whitening fingers as he tightened his grip on his wand that she was right.

"The same doesn't go for me, Granger." the Weasley girl stated.

Hermione gritted her teeth. Even though she couldn't explain why, she knew better than to provoke her. For a moment, she got lost in the redhead's deep brown eyes, but finally decided not to draw her own weapon.

"Oh, come on. How would it look for a Prefect to be involved in a fight on her first day on duty." Hermione argued.

"I don't know, you tell me" Weasley jeered, pointing at Hermione's Prefect badge.

"I don't remember being the one who provoked the duel. But I am sure that Professor Snape would love to hear about this if you don't clear off the way."

Both Potter and the Weasley girl lowered their wands a little, sharing a questioning look. Weasley nodded and put her wand back into her robes, inviting Potter to do the same. A victorious smile curled up Hermione's lips. Brains would always triumph, whatever some might think.

"It seems like you're smarter than the average Slytherin – though that can't be too hard" the Gryffindor girl commented through clenched teeth.

"It took you quite some time to notice" Hermione ironized. "Let's go, I am still starving" she added to Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise.

The boys didn't object and followed her back through the walkway, though Blaise seemed to hesitate for a second. When they were back, Draco and Pansy had finally gone off each other and were already wearing their black robes, Draco reading the _Prophet_ on his bench and Pansy lost in _Witch Weekly_ on hers.

* * *

Later that evening, they all regained their favourite couches next to the stained-glass windows behind which the Black Lake lay, its green light drawing soft shadows onto the common room floor. Blaise, Draco, Pansy and Hermione had earned themselves the honorific title of "Silver Four" for they all had their reasons to be the most envied Slytherins; Blaise was mostly admired for his uncanny beauty and wealth inherited from his mother, Draco for the influence and reputation of his family and his natural charisma, Hermione for her astonishing wit and ambition and Pansy … well, she was Draco's puffer whenever he needed affection or to release his anger or needs. Moreover, they were all from the purest blood. At least Hermione made sure that everybody kept believing that – not that she despised Muggleborns, but it made her life as a Slytherin easier if she pretended to.

How could she have explained that by the day she was sure to be able to produce a strong enough memory charm in Third Year, she had erased her existence from her Muggle parents' memory and sent them to live in Ireland? Since then, she had survived the summer holidays at a certain _friend's_ place on Spinner's End. She would spend her days devouring the books that covered the walls of his sitting room when he let her out of the attic hidden beneath the tricked bookshelf. He wasn't there very often anyway; too busy working his wand off for Dumbledore. Hermione didn't think they could really have lived together for that long, otherwise. He might be the most pleasant teacher at Hogwarts if you were a Slytherin, but he still only took her in because he pitied her situation and she cooked and cleaned for him - though, luckily, he didn't let her touch an inch of his clothing.

Hermione turned back to Draco who was in a deep conversation with Blaise about how reduced the Slytherin Quidditch team would be without him as a Seeker this year, Pansy's head resting on his torso, the witch fast asleep.

"Why would you give away such a good occasion to wash off Potter's smile, though?" Hermione suddenly asked, her voice ringing through the nearly empty common room.

Draco's smirk faded right away, his calculating look quickly gauging her. It was extremely rare that she participated in Quidditch-based discussions. Then, his smile emerged from its ashes, accompanied by a hearty laugh.

"I have been given a better opportunity to turn Potter down; and that for a longer time than a Quidditch match" he said, contemplating his short fingernails.

Hermione was sure that Pansy would have been highly interested in this mysterious announcement, but right now she couldn't have been happier that the girl was fast asleep. Something about Draco was definitely odd lately. Blaise snorted loudly.

"And what is it now? Are you going to lurk him into another _well-thought_ trap? If you'd ask me, I'd say that Potter and his friends are rather good at getting into mortal danger themselves. Do I need to remind you of the troll in First Year? Werewolf-Lupin in Third Year? Even that whole story with Umbridge last year could have ended up pretty badly. Not to mention the Triwizard Tournament and their little escapade to the Ministry" Blaise observed sceptically.

Draco suddenly lifted his feet from the low table to sit upright, facing Blaise. Pansy's head unexpectedly fell onto his lap, waking her from her drowsiness. As she looked up, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles, Draco's temper exploded.

"No, Blaise, I did _not_ ask for your opinion!" he bellowed.

Then, still breathing heavily and rejecting the hand Pansy put on his forearm, he continued in a colder tone.

"The problem about Potter is that he is as good at getting into trouble as he is at getting out of it. People like him too much, they protect him. And that has to come to an end."

Hermione couldn't control the shiver that ran down her spine. It wasn't as if it were the first time Draco spoke like that about Potter. Yet still, she couldn't help feeling like this time was different.

* * *

Hi guys, thank you very much for reading this chapter! I hope that you appreciated the start of this new story. Please comment and tell me about your thoughts!

Mrs Ravensmut


	2. Count on me

At breakfast, the next morning, in the Great Hall, Draco barely looked up from his untouched plate as Professor Snape gave out their timetables. Hermione was left abashed. Usually he was the first to grab the paper, eager to discover what would define the year to come. She finally decided to look at it herself, still quite perplexed by her friend's behaviour. She quickly got way too deep into her reading to notice that the head of their house was still standing behind her, now slightly leaning forward over her left shoulder.

"Do you not recall overseeing something when you departed yesterday?" he whispered so low that no one but Hermione could hear.

Caught by surprise, her elbow hit the table, sending her knife to the ground. When Blaise, who was sitting next to her, finally looked up by the sound of the metal against the stone floor, Professor Snape was already gone. For a second, Hermione thought about making up an excuse, but then she realized that Blaise wouldn't care. As expected, he simply bent over and picked up the cutlery before getting back to his eggs and bacon. She thought about doing the same, when she noticed that Draco was already leaving breakfast without his timetable.

Hermione took his paper from Pansy's hands and followed him to clear up this situation.

"Hey! Granger! What do you think you're doing?" Pansy called after her, but she couldn't care less.

Apparently, Draco and she both had NEWTs potions next anyway. He wouldn't go far without Hermione. As they reached the entrance to the dungeons, she had finally caught up with him, instantly recognizing his platinum locks over the crowd.

"Draco, are you alright? You really seem to be out of sorts lately." she asked.

The blond swiftly looked over Hermione's face and body with an oddly impassive expression. Usually he at least smirked a little when checking her out – not that she actually missed that. She did like Draco a lot, but not that way.

"I kind of preferred you in the dress you had on yesterday" he simply commented.

She rolled her eyes at him but couldn't repress a smile. At least the part of him that was an irksome git hadn't vanished.

"What should I say? Your mother has taste. She probably also is the one having the final word on _your_ robes, considering how well they fit." Hermione retorted.

Draco shrugged as he held the potions class's door open for her.

"She definitely has an eye for people's body" he agreed while he detailed her one last time.

Hermione blushed deeply this time. He had started doing that after her great moment at the Yule ball, on the day Victor Krum finally revealed her as the perfectly normal and potentially pretty girl she was. Back then, it felt as if Draco only considered her like a piece of meat. At first, she even preferred times where she could still think that the blonde was only hanging out with her to get the good grades. But after a moment, she realised with a certain pride that she had never seen him do so with another girl. Not even Pansy, though that wasn't a great surprise. Pansy might have been working very hard on her body since she had noticed Draco glancing at Hermione, but she would never be able to do anything against her childishly thin hips and her nearly flat chest. And of course, there was her bulldog face that illustrated only too well how bright she was. That being not at all.

Draco and Hermione sighed simultaneously as Potter and Weasley entered the classroom even though the class had started ten minutes ago. Of course, the new teacher was delighted to see their little celebrity. Who around this school wasn't? The day before, they had already had a little chat about Slughorn. According to Draco, losing Professor Snape was a sure disaster. Hermione was only disappointed to see that her tutor apparently still didn't trust her enough to share that news with her over the summer holidays.

Anyways, she was sure of one thing: whoever might be teaching them, she knew that she would manage it. After all, she still got an O at her Care of Magical Creatures OWL with that giant mistake as a teacher – pun intended. She didn't want to be taken wrong: as a secret Muggle-born, she would never allow herself to judge people based on their blood. She couldn't care less about Hagrid being half a giant. But with that joke of a teacher, it really didn't matter what he was.

While Weasley and Potter took a seat at the back of the classroom, Hermione let her thoughts wander back to Draco's last comment. Of course, she had blushed like an idiot. Was he suspecting anything after past Christmas? If he did, her reaction surely didn't help.

Today, concentrating on lessons was much harder than usual and, for once, it wasn't for the customary reasons. Hermione had nearly been caught off-guard in Potions when they had to identify the content of the cauldrons. How could she possibly do otherwise with everything that was going on? Past year, information about the Dark Lord had been kept rather under control by Professor Umbridge, but after the disaster of the Department of Mysteries at the end of their Fifth Year, nothing was really a secret anymore. Plus, Lucius had been sent to Azkaban, which had definitely been a nail in the coffin for Draco and Narcissa.

She didn't know what to think of the day _He_ would come back openly. Of course, she couldn't ignore that on some week-ends, Draco's aunt and some other Death Eaters went _hunting_ together – an activity which mainly consisted in killing or torturing random Muggles, hybrids, Mudbloods or other people of that kind, but that wasn't really surprising once you had met them. And sadly, she had had that pleasure over the past holidays at Malfoy Manor. When she was around Narcissa, Bellatrix stayed quite amicable, but the few times she had heard her talking with her own kind on Easter past year, she had simply been terrifying. As far as she could, Hermione had always avoided her company.

She would never forget the Easter dinner she spent sitting in front of her. Draco was like a brother to her. Usually he could tell when she wasn't comfortable in a situation. But that day he had been way too busy talking about his promotion to the Inquisitorial Squad with his father. Instead of him, Narcissa, who was sitting next to Hermione, had been the one to put a soothing hand on her thigh as Bellatrix's eyes pierced through her behind crazy curls. The cackle that had followed had sent chills through Hermione's bones that she wasn't ready to forget. On some nights, she could still hear it in the castle, the same way it resonated in the dinner room of the manor.

* * *

When the first day of school finally came to an end, Hermione took a chance to run from her Arythmancy lesson to the dungeons, using every possible shortcut that she knew. With everybody being too eager to share their first day with their friends in the Great Hall, it was the perfect occasion to find her professor without being seen. She couldn't tell why everybody in Slytherin liked Professor Snape that much. It would probably have been very different if he had treated them like everybody else. For her part, Hermione couldn't tolerate his character very much. Sure, people like Potter could do with somebody telling them straight to their face that they weren't anything special, but others like Longbottom seemed to have it hard enough without Snape pointing at them. Bellatrix still seemed to consider his parents' insanity as one of her greatest achievements.

Still thinking about the devilish woman, Hermione opened the last shortcut with more fierceness then intended. As she lifted her eyes, she was rooted to the spot.

"I really don't think this is saf…"

The youngest Weasley had just turned around mid-sentence to see Hermione standing above her, her face suddenly as blank as Hermione's mind. The dark-skinned boy standing too close to her was not whom anybody would have expected to see. Ginny Weasley was supposedly dating the dark skinned Dean Thomas, her fellow Gryffindor, not the one who impersonated the good looks of the Silver Four; Blaise Zabini. Yet their closeness and the fear on Blaise's face were unmistakable.

"Mione, please don't tell Draco" Blaise pathetically pleaded.

The Weasley girl snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous. Granger is smart enough not break you guys' little image. Anyway, nobody would believe such nonsense" the redhead reasoned.

The next thing Hermione knew, Weasley walked past her and left the narrow staircase. Hermione's eyes stayed stuck on Blaise for a few more seconds, but then she was finally able to move and walked to him and past. A second later however, he was at her side again.

"Hermione, please, promise!" he begged once more.

She stopped with a deep sigh. If she walked down only two more corridors, he would know where she was headed to. Despite herself, she stopped in her tracks to face him.

"Blaise, I really don't care who you're seeing, and I won't tell anybody. But I won't lie either. Draco is my best friend. If he has doubts about you and asks me if I know something, I can't protect you."

Somehow, he seemed relieved. If Hermione were in his situation, the conditions that she offered him would definitely not have satisfied her. And by Merlin's beard, did she know how complicated his situation was. If their roles were inverted, she would probably have found the best secret he kept to put pressure on him.

"Thank you. But just in case you changed your mind, you do know that I am aware that you live with Prof…"

His threat had quickly been muffled by the hand Hermione put on his mouth as the Patil twins passed by. Blaise was unquestionably a Slytherin. In fact, she suspected him of being brainier than he wanted to give out. After all, he was taking only one NEWTs class less than Hermione did.

"Alright, alright. I won't say a thing, but be careful. Weasley is right, somehow. It could cause us our royalty over Slytherin." Hermione warned him.

"I didn't know that you cared so much about those things" he wondered.

"I don't" she rectified. "But Draco does, so I do."

"Yeah, it all makes sense now…" Blaise mocked.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him with a faint smile and he finally left after she told him that she would see him at dinner later. When she checked her watch, she discovered in horror that it was six already. Professor Snape was bound to be at the dinner table already. She decided to try her luck anyway. She hadn't run through half the castle for nothing.

Five minutes later, she was surprised to see that Snape was still in his office indeed, sitting behind his desk and stirring a cauldron with an expression of deep boredom. Nothing unusual, so far. Her tense muscles loosened a little bit and she knocked on the open door.

"Granger, I was wondering when you would finally impose your presence upon me" he said in his deep nasal tones.

"How come you are still brewing potions? Isn't that professor Slughorn's job now?" Hermione asked, deciding not to react to his cynicism.

"Not that it is any of your business, but you happen to be right. Your dear professor felt that it was his duty to rather enjoy the dinner than to help me refurbishing the Verita Serum stocks after Professor Umbridge's vendetta" Snape explained calmly.

Regardless how much Hermione did loath him, she could never help admiring her professor's talent with words and potions. But she had to admit that Professor Slughorn seemed to be a better and fairer teacher than he was.

"So, what is it that I forgot, Sir?" she claimed, adding the "Sir" just after she caught the look his black eyes threw at her.

After a longer hesitancy, he finally left his desk to stand right in front of her. She had never noticed how tall he was.

"I am not wrong in assuming that you are fairly close to mister Malfoy, isn't it?" he inquired.

Hermione simply nodded. Was it just her or did the room get measurably colder?

"Consequently, I equally assume that, considering your intellect, you would be the first person he would turn to if he was to undertake a difficult task."

Once again, she could only nod. Something about him tonight was even scarier than his natural gloomy aura. It was worse than seeing him drunk at home on Halloween past year.

"On another hand, I imagine that considering what I can see in your mind, we are both concerned about him this year. Therefore, I most expressly request that if he shared any dangerous or somewhat _unusual_ plans with you, you would directly come to me" he commanded.

It was obvious that he didn't give her a choice there, but Hermione was still very far from agreeing to those terms. She was way too loyal towards Draco to betray him that easily. If Professor Snape requested her help on whatever this was, it was certainly because he knew that Draco would never share anything with him. However, she was as far from discovering what was up with Draco as he was. Her sensible side spoke for her, despite herself. After all, _if_ something important enough for Professor Snape to care was up, it probably wasn't such a bad idea to be on his side.

As she remembered this summer, her mind eventually settled. She remembered very clearly the day Narcissa and her sister had turned up at Spinner's End. As if he had seen them coming, her tutor had sent her to her hidden room and tell her to stay silent. But even from there, she had recognized the voices, though she couldn't make out what had been said. Back then, she had thought that it was only a courtesy visit, even though it took her by surprise. He always hid Hermione when someone came over – for the few times in three years this had happened. Right now, she could only feel stupid for not sensing that something had been up that day.

She finally looked up to her professor and nodded one last time.

"You can count on me, Professor"

* * *

Sooo guys! I was really excited about this chapter because I think that it settles Hermione's view of this world and gives us a good insight at how life is in her position right now. As usual, I'll be eager to read your comments!


	3. Hogsmeade gone wrong

The mood of the Silver Four stayed the same over weeks. Draco was avoiding Pansy again, which resulted in her hanging out with Hermione instead, to her greatest disenchantment. The more time Hermione spent with her, the shallower she seemed to her. Blaise alternated from Pansy and her to Crabbe and Goyle when he really didn't want to be alone, and, on some evenings, he disappeared for hours at a time, though Hermione thought she knew whom to. Draco didn't seem to notice however, since he was often vanishing himself. If she hadn't had to keep Pansy from wondering about his whereabouts – she had the ominous belief that the least people noticed Draco's behaviour, the best – Hermione would have followed him straightaway.

Even when the time for the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts came, Draco didn't join the others to go and _cheer up_ Weasley. The last time she had seen him behaving normally was on the morning he was muttering rude things about Potter for suddenly being so good at Potions. To be fair, she had to admit that they definitely had less things to complain about this year; Professor Snape was their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, they could finally give up Care for Magical Creatures and Divination, and Dumbledore and Potter himself were rarely to be seen around the castle.

It was only halfway through October that things changed. Their first trip to Hogsmeade had finally been announced and, to Hermione's great astonishment, Draco was planning to go. He had stopped visiting the crowed village for at least a year straight now, preferring to have the empty common room to himself to get some _private time_ with the girls that formed his harem. At first, Blaise had followed his habits, but after a moment it seemed to have lost his interest. It was only now that Hermione understood that it might have been when he started seeing the Weasley girl – or "Ginny", for Blaise's sake.

After Draco announced that he would go to the trip, Hermione was also impressed to see that he managed to turn down Pansy's eagerness to join him. Usually he didn't even bother trying. He even used to enjoy showing off how much she liked running after him. But nowadays Hermione couldn't take his new attitude as an unexpected sign of maturity. Something was obviously up. Deciding that she finally had her perfect opening to find out, Hermione told everybody that was staying at the library to have some quiet reading time, since nobody would ever look for her there nor suspect that it might be a lie.

Shortly after everybody had left, she had finally entered the main hall, the hood of her robes pulled over her head, just in case. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw that Filch was still lingering around the main door. She hadn't put her name on the list, in case one of her friends would check. She quickly hid behind a statue next to a broomstick cupboard. Filch didn't seem to have noticed her. She took out her wand feverishly. The end justified the means, didn't it? It was for Draco after all. Too preoccupied by her mischief, she didn't hear the cupboard next to her open.

"What do you think you're doing Granger?" called a harsh, yet amused voice.

Hermione's heart sank to her stomach and came back in place in a second. It was only Weas… Ginny. She raised a finger to her mouth to silence her.

"I could ask you the same Weasley. Are you looking for a new home?" Hermione taunted.

Very low. She usually never joined Draco on his mocks of the Weasley's financial situation. She decided to consider it as a part of being under pressure._ If in doubt, act like Draco _didn't really seem like a very good life Leitmotiv though, to be fair. The redhead didn't seem particularly affected by Hermione's words however.

"I was waiting for Blaise, if you need to know. Have you seen that coward somewhere around?" she simply asked.

Hermione couldn't help being a little impressed by how good Ginny could contain her emotions. Her brother was always close to exploding when Draco played with him, his ears Gryffindor red. She looked into Ginny's eyes for the second time since the Hogwarts Express. There truly was something fascinating about her that she couldn't explain. She was far from competing with Hermione's secret angel, nevertheless.

"If you let me pass, I won't tell Filch what you're doing." she proposed.

"Sneaky, as Slytherin as ever." Ginny approved.

If Hermione hadn't known that Ginny must hate her for being a Slytherin, she would have sworn that the redhead smiled a little. They didn't need to shake hands, or any other stupidity Draco always insisted on. The Gryffindor only nodded and disappeared into the cupboard again. Hermione threw a last glimpse at her fire-red sleek mane and turned over to make sure that Filch hadn't left his spot. She breathed out quickly and directed the tip of her wand onto him. This was a huge risk to take just to make sure that Draco was alright.

_Petrificus totalys_ she whispered as the last girl from the group of first years vacated the hall. A second later, Filch froze on the spot and fell to the ground face first. Hermione quickly swished and flicked her wand, rushing a levitation charm on his body to keep him from getting harmed too badly – his face already looked mistreated enough like this – and rushed past him.

She didn't stop running when she finally set foot on the ground or as she passed the gate, ignoring the snow that kept blurring her sight and the stitch that was building up in her left side. With the time she lost talking to Ginny, Draco must have gone far already. As the first houses of the little village appeared in the far, she had finally caught up with the last pairs of the group that had left Hogwarts earlier, though her friend was nowhere to be seen. It took her twenty more minutes to find him in the streets of Hogsmeade, his hair only blending in too well with the blizzard. He was just about to enter the Three Broomsticks when Hermione put a hand on his forearm. He jumped at the touch and clutched tightly on some old rug that Hermione hadn't noticed before.

"Hermione! Don't touch that!" he ordered.

He had nearly seemed frightened. She decided to ignore his bizarre advice. When he needed a handkerchief, he usually preferred finer fabrics.

"Listen Draco, you won't be able to ignore me the …" she paused in the middle of her sentence.

The next unwary movement he had made was to rub the forearm she had just grabbed. A horrible thought instantly broke into her mind, but she forced herself to ignore it. Lucius may be one of them and Narcissa might never disinvite them from her home place, but Draco? He was so young and … And what? The Dark Lord never really cared about those things when he had a plan.

After all, Draco was in a perfect position to do His biddings, living here at Hogwarts. But He would never let anybody touch Potter instead of him, regardless of their possibilities. Hermione couldn't help remembering Draco's short speech on their first evening back here in their common room. He had sounded so determined to crush Potter that even she had gotten scared somehow. Would he really be able to harm somebody intentionally?

The second time he tried to push the door to the pub, Hermione held his shoulder instead, just in case. He turned his head to throw her a frozen and dirty look through his crystal blue eyes.

"Let me go, Hermione." he requested coolly.

"No. You're going to tell me what you are up to lately or I will have to force you to it." She warned him.

"Oh and how are you planning to let this miracle happen?" he mocked.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she quickly studied her possibilities. She had to act smart and fast. Her eyes fell back onto his old rug. From a closer look, it actually seemed to contain something. Something that he didn't want anybody to see. Probably even the reason why he didn't want any of them to follow him today, she realised. She came a step closer, reducing the distance between them to a bare foot.

"Do you remember what you said the day you found out about my situation?" she reminded him without breaking eye-contact.

Draco quickly looked around them, making sure that nobody would hear what he had to answer. _Coward_, she thought.

"I told you not to worry, because I was your family now. Hermione, if this is about you not being allowed to come over for Christmas, I'm really sorry, but things are difficult right now. It wouldn't be safe for you." He answered.

Hermione couldn't restrain a cold laugh.

"Draco, we both know that since the Triwizard Tournament, nobody is really safe anymore, whoever your parents might be." she argued.

She didn't expect him to react so strongly though. His entire face turned even paler than usual, nearly ghost-like, and he opened his mouth a few times before being able to say a word.

"You don't know what you're talking about. My parents …"

"… were really respected, I will never pretend the opposite, but after what happened last year for your father, I am afraid that a few things have changed for you. I am worried about you. Please Draco, just talk to me!"

"Quit treating me like a child! I can take care of myself. Whatever I might or might not be doing, it is _my_ business and I am totally in control. Now let me go and get back to the castle if you have a little bit of your wisdom left." Draco snarled.

Hermione shook her head in distress. What was it with boys and their thirst to prove themselves? As he was about to turn around for the last time, she did what she should have done from the beginning, the only thing that could have kept him from cutting her off. She quickly leaned forward and grabbed the old rug. Draco's grip on it was way too tight though and she could only feel the edge of its cold content against her fingers.

The last thing she remembered was Draco's terrorised expression before he ran away.

* * *

Hi guys, my holiday ends here and I thought it would be nice to leave you with that cliffhanger! I tried to prepare a few chapters in advance since I'll be pretty busy at uni, but I hope I'll still find time to write!

Please leave a review! (And thanks to those who already have)


	4. Hospital Wing

Hermione had always been wondering whether, when people lay unconscious, they did hear what was happening around them. Did they know if their flowers got changed and their relatives squeezed their hands tightly, hoping for an answer? Today she finally had an answer to those silent questions, for she woke up what felt like a minute after everything went dark. Only she lay in the hospital wing, curtains drawn around herself, the light of daybreak surrounding her.

She slowly pushed herself up to sit against the rail of her bed, detailing the place. There were a few untouched boxes of sweets – mostly caramels and Chocolate Frogs – a bouquet of hanging daffodils and a get-well card from the rest of the Silver Four. She bent over to smell the flowers with a faint smile. They still smelled like her angel. Had she been there, or did she only send them over from her personal gardens? She would have been content with both. Hermione was about to try swinging her legs over the bed and look for Madam Pomfrey when she heard his light steps on the stone floor. She would have recognized the sound of his hundred Galleons shoes everywhere. She quickly lay back down and shut her eyes just in time before he pulled the shades open.

"Hermione, I know you're awake, the card was on the right of the daffodils, not on its left." Draco stated.

She hesitated for a second, then finally sighed and opened her eyes, but didn't say a word.

"Please say something … Don't you think that I have been worried enough this past week?" he pleaded.

"I have been gone for an entire week?!" she cried out despite her previous resolution.

Draco only set his sight on his shoes and nodded, just like a child being chastised by his mother. Hermione sighed once more. She really couldn't stay mad at him for long, even in these present circumstances.

"Please Draco; just tell me what for Merlin's beard you're doing! Who deserved this? Who did you want to knock down like this?"

He shook his head in disapproval, but his face stayed frightened and pained.

"Listen Hermione, for you, the Sorting Hat hesitated; you could have ended up being a Gryffindor and do all sorts of stupid stuff to be there for your friends. But you became a Slytherin. That's because your need to achieve great things was stronger. For me, the Hat barely even touched me! I was born to be in Slytherin, there is no other side to me. I need this, Hermione, and I need to do it alone if I want things to be back at normal at the home. You just can't imagine how things are …" he explained.

"Then take me with you over the Christmas holidays!" Hermione fiercely retorted.

"I already told you that it was impossible! Hermione you don't understand." His already whispering voice dropped to a barely audible hiss. "It's not just Bellatrix anymore!"

She endured his desperate gaze for long seconds, defying his trembling grey eyes. And it was without breaking our eye-contact that she argued, separating each word very clearly.

"Draco, if you don't at least let me see this with my own eyes, I will _have_ to take more desperate measures."

Draco's perfect blond brows frowned for a second, but then he finally let go. Though it was clear that he doubted that Hermione was in any position to threaten him, he certainly didn't want to try her. She forced a brief smile on her lips and caught his large hand in both of hers.

"We can do this together Draco" she promised.

He suddenly pulled his hand off her with a look of utter disbelief.

"I am not sharing this with you! It is mine; it is _my_ time to prove myself! I am only considering taking you with me for Christmas to shake you off!" he finally defended and stood up from his chair, throwing the flowers to the ground on his way out.

A second later Draco had left her in the shatter of breaking glass. Hermione soon heard the hurried footsteps of Madam Pomfrey crossing the room, and quickly drew her wand to fix the damage. Draco didn't need to be both late in lessons and harassed by the school nurse. While the vase could be mended perfectly, the daffodils where ruined. She sighed once more.

"What did you do to Malfoy to get him in such a mood when you only just woke up?" a slightly familiar and amused voice asked.

Apparently, these hurried footsteps weren't Madam Pomfrey's.

"What made you rush so fast through the hospital wing? If you didn't want to be seen near a Slytherin, I think that you failed" Hermione retorted.

She shrugged and ran a hand through her luscious hair.

"I told Malfoy that I was looking for his father, I think that he didn't appreciate my humour. And by the way, you Slytherins care much more about who you are seen with than we do. One of my brothers has been dating a Ravenclaw, Harry's with Cho, Neville had eyes on Luna Lovegood." she argued.

Hermione knew that she should have been absolutely stunned by Ginny's insolence, but at the moment she couldn't help being somehow amazed. This girl unquestionably had something. Blaise always had the most refined tastes of them all.

"Yeah and Weasley is dating Brown, one of the twins that Johnson girl from Quidditch, Finnigan is seeing the Gryffindor Patil … So, what brings you here so early? Are you trying to get a shot at slitting my throat while the others are at breakfast?" Hermione mused.

"I see that you are a real fan" Ginny laughed. "But if I really wanted to get at you, my wand would be enough, anytime I want. Other than that, even if it might surprise you, I actually wanted to see how you were doing. People do that sometimes, you know. They care about other human-beings."

"Oh, so now we are friends or something?"

The Gryffindor shrugged once more.

"We are not as rancorous as you Slytherins are. Don't think that overlooked that you and Blaise were the only ones who never really helped when Draco was on one of his new plans to ruin Harry or others. I don't believe in entirely good or bad people and, despite what you might want to give off, you're not a bad person, Granger."

Hermione sat there in utter disbelief for at least a minute. Everything Ginny just said was rumbling through her brain, fighting with her very core principles. Was she really considering a friendship with Ginny Weasley? Sure, she was by far a better candidate than Pansy for these matters, but did Slytherin-Gryffindor friendships even exist? She promised herself to look that up at the library as soon as Madam Pomfrey would let her leave the hospital wing.

"Well then you will be relieved to hear that I am doing very well. I guess that you can go and enjoy your breakfast in peace now."

Hermione could have sworn that a quick smile crossed Ginny's pink lips.

"Thank you for authorizing me" she teased and stood up to leave just as Draco had. Somehow hurt, just as he had been.

"Ginny, wait!" Hermione called after her.

She stared back at Hermione, probably as surprised as she was for the use of her first name, and threw a questioning look at the Slytherin.

"I'm sorry for what I said last time. About you looking for a home in the broomstick cupboard. It was mean and stupid of me."

The redhead's smile became even wider and she nodded, accepting Hermione's request for forgiveness. She hesitated for a moment as she separated two curtains to leave.

"Don't worry about that too much. You're not in a much better position yourself, anyway, am I right?"

Hermione's face turned red up to the root of her hair. Out of shame or rage, she would never know.

When she left the hospital wing two whole days later, only too nervous about the amount of work she would have to catch up with, Hermione quickly realized how it could feel to be in Potter's shoes for a second. For a whole day being, she couldn't make a move without being scrutinized from head to toe by groups of students chatting in low voices, as if they were looking for a hidden monstrous scar somewhere. Even though the rumours were reaching wild heights, apparently no one had a clue that Draco was involved in what happened to Hermione – whatever did happen to her.

Most of the people pretended that she had been cursed – the non-Slytherin and even some of their own adding that she fully deserved it for being so irritating in lessons – and that Dark Magic had been implicated. In these present times, she could somehow believe it herself. Others made up that they saw her duelling a first year and that she lost dramatically. If the Weasley twins hadn't left the school past year, she would have bet on them for this one. All in one, things smoothed down better and quicker than she had expected, even if a couple more students appeared to have fled Hogwarts in the week of her accident.

What did change on the other hand, was that she couldn't help feeling like Weasley and Potter had started looking at her differently than as "Draco's friend", since Ginny came to see her. Did she say anything to them? Or did Ginny expect her to go and talk to her in public from now on? Neither of them took a step forward in any case, and the weeks flew by without any disruption. Not even Blaise seemed to bother about her betraying his secret dating life anymore. It was only a week before the Christmas holidays that things got a little bit tense.

Draco was once again bitter that Slughorn kept inviting Blaise and me to his little club happenings, Pansy was hoping for him to get in and take her as a plus one and I was still thinking about a way to convince Draco to have me at the mansion over the holidays.

"Draco if you really want to go, I can still tell professor Slughorn that I changed my mind and then you can go as my date. My friendly date" Hermione added after Pansy's venomous look.

It was the third time this week that they were having this discussion.

"I don't need to be invited by sole pity, Hermione!" Draco retorted as he jabbed his spoon into his porridge with such fierceness that some of it exploded onto Pansy's face.

Hermione rolled her eyes. These boys would kill her one day. If they invite a girl to a ball, they are formidable knights, but if a witch dares inviting them, it is a sheer disgrace. She was about to retort, when she felt a soft and cold finger brushing her shoulder. She waited a few more seconds before she looked up, avoiding any suspicions from her friends. Indeed, her bat-like professor was just leaving the Great Hall after walking past the Slytherin table on his way out.

"I just remembered that I forgot my runes dictionary in the dormitory, I should leave now if I want to be in time." Hermione pretended as she stood from the table.

Not even Draco looked up. Well, of course, a couple of first and third years were looking in her direction, but she knew that it was more for Draco and Blaise's sculptural features than hers. Therefore, she simply left the room to join the dungeons and Professor Snape's office, somehow even more anxious than the first time this occurred. She didn't even get the time to knock before he spoke.

"Come in" he commented, his deep, nasal tenor as peculiar as ever.

"Sir?"

"Close the door"

Hermione obeyed, suddenly very eager to get this over with. Sharing a closed room with him had never been the favourite part of her every-day-life. It wasn't even for how sallower his skin looked in the candlelight of the dungeons or how darker his charcoal eyes looked like in the darkness, but rather for how human he seemed. When he was just a teacher, he had that untouchable, unquestionable aura, but right now, like so often over the summer, he seemed so exposed and accessible. Nevertheless, it was probably just her imagination, because she had never, ever, seen Professor Severus Snape being truly weak or just even sentimental.

"So?" he simply asked.

Hermione swallowed with much difficulty.

"Well, I tried talking to him, but he stays so reserved. He doesn't want to "share" whatever plans he has. It sounds as if he thinks that he can get erase his father's mistakes by doing whatever he does."

Professor Snape clenched his teeth in displeasure.

"How naïve you can be. You have to ruse him into trusting you, you cannot _wait_ for him to unwrap, or it will be too late."

"But I don't want to force him! He already seems extremely stressed about all this, sir."

"You are being by far too sentimental. It might have been a blunder to rely on your judgment, Miss Granger. You worry too sturdily about his comfort to do your bidding properly. I will have to take this in my hands." Snape deliberated.

"No, please sir. Leave me at least the Christmas holidays. If he knows that I talked to you …"

Professor Snape's eyes narrowed. Evidently, he didn't approve of Hermione thwarting his plans. However, she couldn't risk missing her best chance to finally resolve the mystery of Draco's behaviour. In the end, the head of her house acquiesced half-heartedly and gauged her for a second over his crooked nose. Hermione didn't need a second to understand that he was going to do it again. Legilimency and then erase her memories of it. This time she had done her research about the sudden blank feeling that her last chat with him had left. But she decided to let him.

"No trace of resistance today, Miss Granger?" he snarled.

"I know that I can't go up against you anyway."

The only pleasant thing about someone like Professor Snape practically raping your mind, was that he managed to stay gentle somehow. He never touched the memories of Hermione's nights with her angel, or those of her childhood with her parents or whatever didn't concern what he was looking for. As long as she kept her mind blank of the thoughts that she didn't want him to see, he wouldn't go looking for them.

As Hermione walked out of his office a few minutes later, her mind was perfectly clear. No memory charm. Her brain itself though, was still too preoccupied with the little time she had left to crack fort Draco and see that she was walking straight into someone. She lifted her eyes onto Draco himself, holding an elegant peacock feather in his hand.

"I thought that you were going to our common room. You're basically on the opposite side of the dungeons" he noted, startled.

"Yes I … I went to the potions classroom to tell Professor Slughorn that I would definitely not come to his Christmas party." She lied. "What's with the feather?"

Draco appeared rather puzzled for a second, but after that he was too keen to share his thoughts to pay any more attention to Hermione's less than inspired tale.

"It's for the list in the common room. You're leaving the castle over Christmas."

**Hi guys, so this is the first of the chapters I could write over the holidays; I hope to refurbish the stock asap!**

**Please write your thoughts in the reviews section or per PM if you have questions and/or suggestions**

**Love**

**Mrs Ravensmut**


	5. Christmas at the Manor

Draco had once again been uncommonly silent on the entire journey aboard the Hogwarts Express. Hermione had tried to catch his sight a few times but gave up after he bought her a sandwich from the trolley for lunch, meeting his unwelcoming gaze. Now however, they had left the train, packed only with small backpacks and watching the platform 9 for Narcissa.

"And I guess that you are still not planning on telling me why you changed your mind all of a sudden?" Hermione asked once more.

Draco only reluctantly looked away from Padma Patil's bum. Both Patil twins had their large trunks and stood between their parents, their faces saddened by their departure. They wouldn't come back after the holidays.

"I told you that I just wanted to get rid of your constant nagging" he argued.

"You don't actually expect me to believe that, do you?"

He didn't answer. The next moment a heavily cloaked woman emerged from the wall of the platform and was now walking towards them in her dancing pace. Though her hood was falling deep on her bony face, it was easy for the trained and expecting eye to recognize the features of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione swallowed difficultly.

"I thought your mother was picking us up from the train station!" she hissed as silently as she could, trying to keep her eyes off the infamous Death Eater.

"So did I" Draco argued with a flick of his tongue.

And then there were five, four, three steps and she was facing them, a crooked smile twisting her plumb, red lips. Hermione shivered. She smelled like blood and cream. One some days, the cream was replaced by musk or the sweat of a battle, but the blood was ubiquitous. Rolling a lock around her curved wand, she seemed to be both devouring and undressing Draco through her dark eyes.

"Draco, it is always a pleasure to see that my Occlumency lessons have borne fruit, but it is particularly rude to use it against your own auntie. Now tell me what the mudblood is doing here if I can't find out for myself" the dark witch ordered.

Hermione looked away as Bellatrix peered at her through her curtain of black locks.

"Why would you think Hermione's a mudblood? asked Draco, nearly amazed by his aunt's flawless senses.

"With enough training, you can smell corrupt blood from far. I knew since the first time she set foot in the manor. I'll teach you one day" she said, inspecting Hermione once more. "I would be surprised if Cissa is happy to see you bringing _that_ home."

Hermione didn't react to Bellatrix's obviously faked oblivion of her presence, nor did she decide to give her opinion about the situation. This was Draco's battle with his family, and it was more than time that she heard from his mouth what he thought about her not being a pureblood – if he did understand that his aunt was actually right. But her friend only shrugged, a very faint smile on his greyish skin.

"On the contrary _auntie_, I believe that mother is actually very fond of Hermione" he defended on a rather unusual tone. "But aren't we expected at home soon?"

Hermione swallowed difficultly. It must have been her imagination. Draco couldn't know. If he had known, he would never have forgiven her. It couldn't be.

Bellatrix was shaken by a brief laugh, or rather a cackle. One of those childishly high tones whose connotations were yet so purely evil that Hermione could only shudder. Then, the Death Eater simply caressed Draco's chin and breathed something the brunette couldn't hear before turning on her light feet and walking across the platform as easily as if she wasn't an Azkaban fugitive on the run.

It was only as she walked through the wall first that Hermione saw Draco unclenching his fists.

Christmas dinner at the Malfoy's had always been the most terrifying, yet stunning event of a years at Hogwarts. Stunning of course for their particular talent at exuberating their wealth in the most imaginative ways, such as the dozens of exotic courses in the menus, the decoration tightly competing the one from the Yule Ball and the music, though not directly played by an orchestra – Narcissa insisted on some privacy over these days – had always been of the best taste. Terrifying still, for not even Narcissa herself could predict who would show up, especially lately.

Today the humongous table had been set for Narcissa, Draco, Bellatrix, Hermione and a fifth mystery guest. Then, all of a sudden Rodolphus Lestrange and the Carrow sibling appeared out of nowhere after they forced a house-elf to let them in, ravenous from their latest hunting trip. After this intrusion, Hermione was only half surprised to discover that the fifth seat had originally been kept for no other than Professor Snape. How could old Dumbledore still believe that Snape was in his petticoats if that same man allowed himself to have a cosy Christmas dinner with a whole bunch of well-known Death Eaters? And some said the old man was a genius.

Seated between her professor and Draco, Hermione couldn't really allow herself to look up to the too née Black sisters facing her. She had never been good at hiding her emotions. This way, the bare foot that fondled with her leg caught her even more by surprise. Even the Carrow woman stopped talking as Hermione spat out her soup. Professor Snape gave an impatient tongue flick, Bellatrix Lestrange a mocking cackle and Narcissa a slight smile. Only Draco kept eating as if nothing had happened.

"Very good choice mother, the soup is excellent" he simply commented.

The red that had flooded Hermione's cheeks only increased as she realised that she was incapable of saying if the foot was Bellatrix's or Narcissa's.

"Thank you, son. The house-elves worked on the diner since early this morning. I do hope everybody will keep some space for the desert. I heard it is truly breath-taking" the blonde smiled.

New stroke. Narcissa's eyes were still on her son. Bellatrix was smiling at her plate in an odd way. _No, please, don't let it be her._ As she started nervously shifting in her seat, Hermione noticed Snape throwing her a warning look. It had been a mere matter of seconds and nobody had seen it except for her, but she instantly understood that she should better keep a low profile. Therefore, as the next silk-clad foot travelled up her exposed calves, she was prepared. Though her heartbeat increased, she calmly moved another spoon of soup to her mouth. Snape seemed to slightly nod at her right.

As the courses went on, the mysterious foot touched Hermione less and less, and she finally came to forget about it. By the time desert had been brought on the table, the Carrows had already left and an oppressing silence had drawn upon all. From time to time someone would compliment Narcissa on the decorations or the food, but the rest of the time, all you would hear was the rattling of cutlery on the silverware. Even Bellatrix had grown unusually silent. Hermione couldn't help feeling like this bizarre mood was induced by her very presence at this dinner.

As a matter of fact, she had felt more than once as if Rodolphus had been throwing her intrigued looks. She silently prayed that he didn't have his wife's keen senses. After a moment, his deep voice rose from the silence. "Say, Draco, who is that girl of yours?" he asked as though Hermione had been in another room.

All eyes turned to Draco, who's grip tightened a little around his spoon of truffle mousse. He cleared his throat in a clear attempt to seem detached. "That's Hermione Granger, she's one of my Slytherin mates" he explained. The word 'Slytherin' seemed to appease the Lestrange man a little, but Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that the subject wouldn't be dropped that easily. For sure, as soon as he met his wife's smirk, Rodolphus pursued the interrogation.

"I don't know any wizarding family called Granger" he noted, his statement clearly being more of a question. It seemed like Bellatrix was about to intervene, but Hermione thought she saw Narcissa discreetly tugging at her sleeve. The raven-haired woman rolled her eyes but staid silent. Therefore, to everyone's surprise, it was Professor Snape's turn to answer.

"That is because her parents were french, Rodolphus" he tempered.

"Were?" Bellatrix interfered, suddenly interested.

"Indeed. They passed several years ago. It seemed like, sadly, some of their darker magical experiments turned on them. Henceforth, she has been my protegee." The potions master completed, causing Hermione's eyes to bulge. Never had he been so open about being her tutor. Never had he protected her this way. She couldn't thank him enough; he being the most skilled legilimens at the table, no one would doubt his statement.

"I see" Rodolphus nodded, visibly content. "Miss Granger it is, then. I have heard many pleasant things about France before. Home country of Malecrit and Flamel, isn't it?"

"I, err, yes, I believe it is" Hermione stuttered, though she knew it to be true for she had read about it more than once. "But I …" she was about to say that she grew up in Britain, when she realized that it could fatally play against her own tale. Luckily, she was bright enough to change her sentence mid-course. "… I think Britain has nothing to envy France. After all our country is home to the greatest wizard of all time" she added, dreading she was overplaying her part.

The Lestrange and Professor Snape nodded approvingly while Draco and Narcissa threw her a startled look. When it came to Draco, she knew that he was only impressed by the quality of her play – and she couldn't be happier to have proven him he did the right choice by bringing her. But Narcissa … Hermione knew the blonde feared that her words had been sincere. The two of them had spoken about these matters more than once; Narcissa was scared for her as she was for Draco. Though she would never say it out loud, Narcissa never believed it to be good for young wizards to promote the Dark Lord.

After this discussion, the dinner went on for about an hour, everyone's tongue being suddenly untied. Rodolphus didn't hesitate retelling how he and the Carrow caught a group of Muggle teenagers in the woods earlier that evening. They had been camping there for a few days, it seemed, when the Death Eaters found them. While Amycus had his fun with the prettiest of the girls, Rodolphus had taken care of killing the boys and Alecto had tortured the remaining girls. Bellatrix seemed enthralled by her husband's creativity; he had been cutting, hanging, choking them, instead of using the death curse – he even buried one alive. Hermione only felt nauseous.

She couldn't be happier when Snape left for Hogwarts and Narcissa proposed that the younger ones would go to bed. Hermione and Draco slightly bowed to them before they left for their wing of the manor. As soon as they were in secure distance, Draco suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and pulled his fellow Slytherin into his arms. Never, in the five years they knew each other, had Draco hugged her. Never had she seen him hug anyone, to be fair. And yet, there he was, holding onto her for dire life, nearly breaking one of her ribs.

"Draco …" she breathed out "Draco, you're hurting me"

"You are completely mad" the boy said after a moment, finally releasing her. "If Snape hadn't been there … I don't even want to imagine what could have happened if they heard about your blood status"

Hermione saw something vaguely familiar glint in Draco's eyes, a strange flame she had only seen there once or twice before. For a second, all his features had gone soft and welcoming, as if every pore of his being was expressing his attachment to her. And then it finally hit her. It couldn't be, but she couldn't ignore it either. Draco was in love with her. He wasn't only protecting her like a brother. She thought back to the devasted look on his face when she woke up in the hospital wing after touching his rug. Suddenly, she couldn't help feeling disgusted at herself. He probably loved her, and she was … she couldn't even say it in her mind.

"Listen, Draco, I knew it would be dangerous, but I wanted to be there for you. And, see, it worked out fine" she answered, trying to sound casual.

Draco smiled very faintly, and they resumed walking. "Look at you, talking like a Gryffindor all over again" he mocked, the loving glint slowly fading away.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and soon they separated to retrieve their rooms. The brunette's room had been the same since the first time she spent a holiday at the manor, three years ago. Back then, Draco had spent the Christmas holidays moaning about his broken arm and demanding that his father had that hippogriff killed – what Lucius did, in the end. But under these circumstances, Hermione had spent a great deal of time alone, most of it being in the manor's large library. Some days, she still couldn't believe that the Malfoys had books that even Hogwarts couldn't afford.

It was that same winter that Hermione first met Narcissa. While Lucius often came by at Hogwarts to see Quidditch matches, make generous donations or discuss matters with the Headmaster, Narcissa had always kept apart from theses affairs. Hermione could still remember how her heart had stopped when Narcissa had entered the library back then, clad in nothing more than a silk morning gown.

"Dear Lord, I hadn't seen you there darling. You must be Hermione" she had greeted her, addressing her a firm hand and a warm smile. Hermione had instantly fallen in love with her. At first, as Narcissa spent the following days guiding her readings and teaching her about pure-blood history, she had thought she loved her like the mother she had lost. And she kept thinking that way for quite some time. She was so young back then, caring about nothing else than her books and keeping her origins secret. But then came the Yule Ball, in Fourth Year, and Krum's insistent hands on her waist, his exploring fingers and lips. She had hated all of it, though they hadn't gone far.

That same year, over Easter Break, she tried discussing these matters with Narcissa. Though the blonde had been very reluctant at first – her upbringing had taught her that the matters of the body should never be expressed openly – she had ended up telling Hermione the little she could tell. She explained how important it was that she chose a partner that wouldn't tarnish her reputation and who would be loyal to her. She even showed her a contraceptive spell, making her promise that she wouldn't tell anyone that she knew about these sorts of charms. They had giggled about it all afternoon like schoolgirls. And after that, Hermione had started wondering about who she considered trustworthy and appealing enough.

Her search didn't bring her very far though, and soon enough she decided to forget about dating until it would come to her naturally. And it did, though in the least expected way. It was Christmas break, Fifth Year, and Narcissa and she hadn't stopped owling each other since Fourth Year. Their letters had brought them closer and, though she couldn't say why at the moment, she had always kept them secret from Draco. Hermione was exhausted from Draco's ranting at Potter, and Narcissa was deeply worried about the secret plan Lucius was preparing. Even now, Hermione couldn't quite explain how it happened.

They had just exchanged Christmas presents and, beneath the wrapping, Hermione had found that beautiful silk dress she wore in September this year. Narcissa had been so excited about her present that she drove Hermione out of the dining room and into the closest chamber to have her try out the dress that had been specially sewed for her. Neither of them really thought about it when Hermione took off her plain robes and stood there in her underwear, waiting for Narcissa to hand over the dress. But Narcissa didn't. She stood perfectly still; her eyes glued to Hermione's half-naked body. For a couple of seconds, time seemed to stop, the young witch's cheeks burning red under her olive skin.

Then the Gryffindor beneath her skin took over and she closed the distance between and Narcissa and herself. Their lips met almost naturally, as though it wasn't for the first time, and soon the Malfoy matron's hands were acting upon their own will, roaming over Hermione's exposed skin. Hermione herself was soon tugging at Narcissa's intricate corset while they deepened their kiss, their tongues dancing madly. And then their bubble broke and time started running again, for they heard a knock on the door.

"So, Hermione, how's the dress? Father and I are still waiting, and we would like to open our own presents" Draco asked from the other side of the door. The two witches broke apart, both terrorised and considering each other as if they were perfect strangers.

"It fits perfectly, dragon, we'll be there in a minute" Narcissa answered, for the was the quickest to recollect herself. Hermione pulled her old robes back onto her heated frame, still at a loss. She didn't know what to do. Avert Narcissa's gaze? Say something? The blonde didn't leave her to her thoughts for long, for she left the room as soon as Hermione had gotten dressed.

It could have ended there; a brief moment of distraction in an overwise perfectly normal life. But it didn't. That same day, about midnight, when Draco was fast asleep and Lucius away with his fellow Death Eaters, Narcissa joined Hermione in her room. The young witch had just been trying on her now dress, astonished by how well it fit her, though Narcissa never took her measurements. Maybe, that night, Narcissa came to settle things and make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. Or maybe she had planned for things to end up exactly that way. Hermione couldn't tell. But when she saw the young Slytherin in her tightly fitting dress, she just walked over to her, kissed her mad and brought the two of them to bed.

And now, exactly one year later, Hermione was sitting on that same bed, realizing that Draco probably had feelings for her and – worst of all – given his recent comments, he certainly suspected something between her and his mother. She considered taking a bath in the adjacent bathroom, trying to work things out in bubbly warm water, when her door slowly opened. Hermione was still wearing that black silk dress from past year, because she didn't own anything nicer, and there Narcissa was, just like the first time they met, leaning against her doorframe, clad in nothing more than a morning gown.

**Hi ! So this is the last chapter I could prepare over the holidays; I hope to write new ones soon. Have a great week-end and don't forget to tell me what you thought!**


	6. Christmas Loving

**ATTENTION: This chapter will contain a graphic scene. **

_Hermione was still wearing that black silk dress from past year, because she didn't own anything nicer, and there Narcissa was, just like the first time they met, leaning against her doorframe, clad in nothing more than a morning gown._

"I am happy to see that it still suits you perfectly" the blonde Malfoy matron noted, faintly smiling at Hermione. The young witch flushed a little and looked away before she smiled back.

"I still adore it, thank you. Are the other … guests … all gone?" she asked after a brief hesitation. Narcissa nodded silently and it was only as she walked into the room that Hermione noticed that she was holding a glass of red in her right hand. The older witch pushed the door closed behind her with a bare foot and slowly walked towards Hermione, her hips swaying dangerously in her silk gown.

When she had met the four-posters, to Hermione's greatest relief, she chose to sit down in a nearby armchair rather than next to her on the silver sheets. After she was seated, she took another sip of her wine, all the while detailing Hermione's accoutre, before she finally discarded the glass and spoke once more.

"Bella has gone to her hiding place, but I must say that you made quite the impression on her" Narcissa announced absent-mindedly, though Hermione guessed she cared more than she would have liked to. "She doesn't trust Severus as much as I do, though. She believes that he is hiding something about you. And I don't think that she is completely wrong." She went on.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "I …"

But Narcissa was quick to cut in. "I don't mean to question what he said about your parents. I am more interested in why exactly he took you in and how you cohabitate."

The young Slytherin studied the older one's serene traits, trying to gauge her intentions. Yes, Narcissa and her had been intimate more than once, but Hermione was far from properly knowing the woman. For all she knew, Narcissa could merely be using her as a distraction while Lucius was away. Moreover, she would probably strongly disapprove of her blood status if she knew about it, and so would probably all Malfoys – Draco included. And yet, the blonde didn't seem to be interested in it. All she cared about was the nature of her relationship with Snape.

To be fair, Hermione often wondered about it herself. Severus Snape was probably the last person one would consider as a substitute father; Hermione's choice to reach out to him had been more than odd at the time. Yet, somehow, that day, he had been the first person she thought of. That year, she had spent months perfecting her spells technique at Hogwarts and putting a little money aside by tutoring younger students – hell, she had even stolen a wand from the lost ones at Hogwarts. She had also prepared the story she would tell the Ministry when they would come around because of the Trace. And throughout that entire preparation, she hadn't thought once about where she would go afterwards.

It had been late afternoon already when a ministry official knocked on their door about an hour after the owl came. By then, she had already manipulated her parents' memory so that they would leave for Ireland the next instant and she had destroyed the wand she used to cast the spell. She had told the Ministry official her parents were out to dinner at a friend's place and that she had been left behind so that she could go on with her readings. She had taken her most innocent voice when she had explained that she was reading about spells and had tried one out even before remembering she wasn't supposed to, outside of Hogwarts. The old man had seemed to believe her, but asked to check her wand nonetheless. Hermione had planned that: the last spell she had cast with her own wand was indeed a memory spell, but a failed one. And her plan worked perfectly; the man seemed relieved to see that no one had been harmed and he simply recommended she would keep her spellwork for Hogwarts if she didn't want any further trouble. Never in a million year would he have considered that a Third Year could have pulled that elaborate trick on him.

For a moment, Hermione had considered living in her parents' house on her own, since they would never come back from their sudden trip to Ireland. But she soon realized that their neighbours would start asking questions and that she would soon run out of money if she had to take care of the household herself. It was then that she remembered that time she walked in on a drunk Professor Snape past Halloween when she was looking for her discarded favourite quill. He had been seated behind his desk, his greasy hair array around his pale face, an empty bottle of something facing him. He had seemed to be in some sort of trance and didn't notice Hermione's coming in, nor talking to him.

When she had walked closer to him, Hermione had realized the empty bottle she had taken for Firewhiskey had clearly been full of something else, for its bottom still contained a few drops of a strange dark potion. Even now, she couldn't guess what it had been – probably one of Snape's own inventions. What she did guess though, was that it had the most bizarre effects on her professor. He was mumbling things between clenched teeth, holding on so tightly to his glass that Hermione's feared it would shatter into pieces.

Then, at last, Hermione had noticed that Snape wasn't piercing holes through thin air but was actually watching a scene that was happening on his very desk in some sort of large platter. There were young children talking to each other, a dark-haired boy and a ginger girl. "Do you also live in Cokeworth?" she heard the younger girl ask. "Yes, but on the other side of Spinner's End. It isn't as nice as your side of town" the boy answered. "You know where I live?" the ginger girl wondered, and the dark-haired boy flushed to his very ears. It was only then that his crooked smirk struck Hermione. Snape was watching one of his own memories! Which meant that this platter of dark water could only be a pensive.

The next moment, Hermione had left the dimly lit classroom without a second thought for her quill. She had feared that, despite his very strange state, Snape had noticed her obvious presence, but he never mentioned anything about it over the following weeks. For a moment, Hermione even forgot about that incident herself. Yet that very fortuitous conversation between two children came back to her on the day she was left alone at her parents' house. It was risky, to say the least, but she had concluded that threatening Snape with that memory would force him to help her out. She knew enough to pretend that she knew much more.

She thought that Snape would curse her the moment he opened the door on her and her trunk. She thought he would tear her into piece when she suggested what she had seen. But he only seemed startled and a little impressed. He had been furious in the first instants of course, but he had soon seemed to realize that Hermione had no intention of betraying him if he took her in. Though Hermione never understood what it was, something about that memory was confidential enough to force him into working against his own current.

Of course, he never became welcoming or friendly towards her. He forced her to stay in the attic whenever he was home and only agreed to let her touch his books after a year of pleading from her part. It was only when he was away on missions that she wasn't supposed to ask about, that she could read a little or prepare a few snacks that each of them would eat in their own part of the house. No, Snape never acted like a father towards her, not even like a roommate. He only reluctantly gave her a shelter because she promised to keep quiet, to let him forget about her existence and to never mention their cohabitation to anyone.

It was only when Narcissa bore deeper that Hermione realized that she had spaced out. "So, don't you want to tell me how you mastered to conquer our cold Potion Master's heart?" she reiterated with a sarcastic smile.

"Well I … I wouldn't go that far. Let's just say that I had information he didn't want anyone else to know about" Hermione breathed out, startled by Narcissa's amused expression.

"Oh, you manipulated him? Very Slytherin, I like it!" the older woman appreciated, suddenly rising from her armchair to pace around the room.

"Do you, now?" Hermione asked with a relieved smile, for she instantly felt lighter when the blonde's eyes weren't trying to bore through her head. She watched Narcissa's dancing frame as she strolled over to the dresser to have a look at the other clothes Hermione's had brought with her, and Hermione couldn't help noticing how little her gown hid from her. The silk hugged every perfect curve of her slender silhouette and discovered her nude white calves. A few strands of blonde hair fell from her bun when she suddenly turned her head over her shoulder to look at Hermione.

"Yes, it is very enticing" she said, throwing Hermione a smouldering wink. Goosebumps instantly ran over the brunette's body and she felt herself flush once more. "You know, we should have a shopping trip sometime soon. None of this is very fitting for a beautiful young pureblood such as yourself" Narcissa went on as she resumed roaming through Hermione's closet.

"Yeah, that should be fun, walking straight past the deserted Leaky Cauldron and Ollivanders' destroyed shop to Mrs Malkin's. It would surely make for a nice ambiance. We should definitely stop at Florean Fortescieu's afterwards." Hermione ironized.

Narcissa threw Hermione a surprised look over her shoulder before she started smiling despite herself. She then left the dresser to walk back to the bed, though this time she walked straight to Hermione without stopping at her armchair. "You know" she started when she had sat down on the bed next to her "I was really scared for you at dinner earlier" she went on, lifting a hand to tuck one of Hermione's locks behind her ear.

"I guessed so" Hermione answered, thinking back to the sheepish approval she had faked earlier. She then looked up to Narcissa's eyes and was surprised to find them a little wet. She felt her own traits soften as she reached out to hold the blonde's hand in her own. "You are in a hell of a situation, aren't you?" she asked after a moment.

Narcissa nodded, though she knew the younger witch wasn't really looking for an answer, and slowly let her head fall on Hermione's shoulder, still tightly holding on to her hand. As Hermione slid an arm around her shoulders, the Malfoy matron went on: "Oh Hermione, you have no idea how it is. When Draco is here, they all hold back a little, but when it is only me at the Manor, they …" Narcissa didn't go on for her voice started shaking.

Hermione didn't think for a second without turning on herself and pulling the trembling woman into her arms. She felt her breath in deeply, inhaling her natural perfume, and slowly stilling. Hermione had thought that Narcissa would fight out of her embrace, but it seemed like she was only giving into what she had desperately needed for months. After a moment, the blonde even felt appeased enough to slowly lift her chin so that she could nibble on Hermione's neck.

"Darling" she breathed lowly, sending shivers through Hermione's spine. "I have missed you so direly".

The next moment, she was pushing the zipper of Hermione's dress all the way down and urging the younger witch to step out of it. When they both stood up, Hermione's dress fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her underwear and tights. Narcissa then drew her wand from somewhere beneath her gown – Hermione couldn't explain how she had hidden it that well until now – and with a flick of it, the brunette's tights were gone. "You should really consider stockings; it makes the undressing much easier" Narcissa noted in an amused tone.

Hermione's eyes rose to the ceiling and she smiled despite herself. "I don't believe that said undressing has ever been difficult from you to me" she argued while reaching out to the silken belt of Narcissa's gown.

"Sly …" the blonde approved as the silk parted to reveal her naked frame clad only in a lace thong. Hermione licked her lips in apprehension at that sight. She remembered now how she had been able to betray her best friend in such a way: Narcissa Malfoy wasn't a woman you could resist.

Though Narcissa was petite, her legs seemed to go for miles until her curves rounded into her feminine hips, before narrowing into her tiny waist and filling the perfect globes of her breasts. And all that exposed skin was of the purest white, marked by nothing but the redness of her nipples and the darkness of her lace underwear. Hermione could have drooled to that sight. She stayed transfixed for so long, her mouth standing a little open, that Narcissa gave out a light chuckle.

"You should put that mouth to better work" she mused, before cupping Hermione's chin her kissing her softly. The brunette swallowed difficultly and answered to the demanding kiss. She reached out to Narcissa's neck as their kiss deepened, and while their tongues were dancing, she released the blonde's hair. Their only broke about to breathe in, their hands now freely roaming over each other's body. The next moment, Narcissa unclasped Hermione's bra, and the younger witch pushed her lover out of her evening gown.

When they were both in an equal state of undress, Narcissa leaned back against the bed and pulled Hermione on top of. Once they had settled in the middle of the four-posters, the brunette straddled her and finally took in the beauty of her body. She hummed in pleasure were her fingers glided over her hips and travelled up to her erect nipples. While her hands were slowly rolling these pink nubs between their fingers, she bent over to kiss down her jaw and neck, taking in her intoxicating smell.

"No teasing darling, please" the blonde urged her, shifting anxiously beneath her. Narcissa kept moving her hips to grind her core against Hermione's, their wetness staining each other's underwear. Hermione was only too happy to oblige and started to kiss her way down her body. She couldn't help stopping for a moment at her breast, latching at these perfect mounds. Narcissa's moaning became stronger and her shifting became more insistence with every time the brunette sucked on her nipples.

When, finally, Hermione's hands pulled her thong off her legs, she let out a deep growl of consent. She lost no time before reaching out to the brunette's tamed mane and pushing her head between her eager legs. The younger witch smiled to herself and gave in. She spread the blonde's thighs wider and lowered herself so that her legs could rest over her shoulders. She then darted out her tongue and spread Narcissa's inner lips to slowly lap up and down her slit.

"Good Lord, Hermione, yess!" Narcissa moaned above her, still grinding her core against Hermione's ministrations. The brunette then slid her hands around the blonde's waist to still her and control her movements, for her tongue had now travelled up to her clit. She started by toying with it lightly, enthralled by the sweetest sounds Narcissa was giving out. When she felt the older witch getting closer and closer to her peak, she increased the speed and strength of her tongue until the blonde was merely mewling incomprehensible sounds. The moment Hermione finally slid two fingers into her drenched channel, she started spasming, an untamed chain of "yes"s leaving her dry mouth.

Soon after, she came hard against Hermione's mouth and the brunette lapped all her cum off her like a content kitten. By the time her glistening face emerged from her thighs, Narcissa had come a little down from her high and was crooking a finger to order Hermione to come closer. She obliged happily and lay down next to her on the crumpled sheets. "If I didn't know better, I would say that you had some training" Narcissa breathed out after a moment.

"Would you mind if I had?" Hermione boldly asked. Narcissa cocked an eyebrow at her and the next moment she was pinching Hermione's right nipple hard. "Yes" she murmured into her ear, nearly threatening. Narcissa had never been as loving with Hermione as she was with her. She would let the young witch pleasure her tenderly, and then she would claim her. Indeed, she seemed to consider that Hermione's pleasuring her was enough preparation, for she was now sliding two fingers into her opening.

"Uh, Narcissa" Hermione breathed out in surprise, still adjusting to the sudden intrusion.

"I can't be harder to take than Severus's dick, darling" Narcissa taunted her, pounding into her relentlessly.

"I… never … oh god" the brunette spoke out, her voice strained by Narcissa's assault. "We don't sleep together … Narcissa" she finally pleaded, though she had now adjusted to the blonde's size and rhythm and was now starting to enjoy it.

Narcissa seemed to be gauging under her furrowed brown, and as she finally kissed her savagely, Hermione considered she believed her. The blonde's ministration did get a little gentler and soon the brunette was toppling over the edge of her own orgasm, her entire body covered in a light sheen of sweat. "God, Narcissa, you know no mercy" she muttered when her heartbeat started stilling.

"Did I hurt you?" the Malfoy matron asked in honest concern.

"No, it's alright. But there is definitely something going on with you that you don't want to tell me" Hermione answered, propping herself up on an elbow to look over the blonde's exhausted face. Narcissa herself was now lying flat on her back, also recovering, and it took her several seconds before she could look into her lover's eyes.

"I thought you knew, living with Severus. But apparently he really is a man to be trusted" she said after a moment. "Yet maybe, if you knew, you could … No. He know that I spoke to you. Severus is a skilled legilimens, but you couldn't hide it from anyone …" she went on, seemingly thinking out loud.

"Is this about Draco's plans this year?" Hermione cut in after a moment. "I know something's going on."

"Yes, he was foolish enough to think that he could hide it from you, wasn't he? I am sorry that were hurt in the process. Did you receive my narcissus?" the blonde asked, looking over to Hermione. Narcissa really seemed at a loss. Now that sex had rested her traits, you could see how much sleep she was lacking and how her blonde strains had turned white on her temples.

"Yes, thank you. But, you know, I want to help him. I know that he is facing something that is too big for him, even though he won't admit that – even to himself".

Narcissa stared at Hermione for long seconds, a little bewildered. It seemed that, every time they spoke with another, Narcissa discovered anew how bright the young Slytherin could be. After a moment, she sighed deeply and seemed to have reached a decision. "Do you still study ancient runes?" she asked.

"Yes, why?" Hermione wondered.

"Before you leave, I will slip you a piece of parchment. But don't read it before you are safe and sound at Hogwarts or Bella will see it in your mind. Understood?"

"Understood."

* * *

**Hi! Given the current situation about corona virus (yep, I'm going full on news), I found time to write a little, because my Uni is closed for the time being. As always, I would really like to hear from you. I see from the stats that a lot a people read chapters 4 and 5, but no one reviewed … I am one of these authors who needs to know that they write for someone in order to go on, so please tell me your thoughts!**


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